Conversations Kill
by Sionnain
Summary: Magneto and Rogue have a conversation about college, things that could have been, and how to live with the things that will be. Oneshot, set in my Ideology 'verse. MagnetoXRogue.


**Conversations kill**

It was the sort of fall day that people took pictures of to put on calendars; streets peppered with brightly colored leaves, sky a soft blue, groups of college students milling about the quaint downtown district in happy obliviousness. Erik glanced down at Rogue every so often as they walked, noting that she seemed unusually quiet during their little afternoon stroll.

"Is something the matter, my dear?" he asked her, moving closer as they traversed the sidewalk. 

She looked up at him. "Why? Do I seem like something's the matter?"

He shook his head, placing his hand on her elbow and guiding her away from a group of young men who were thoughtlessly taking up the entire sidewalk. Erik noticed they gazed appreciatively at Rogue as they passed, eyeing her up blatantly in a way that set his teeth on edge.

It wasn't jealousy, exactly. Erik just disapproved of bad manners.

"'Scuse me," a voice said breathlessly, two girls with backpacks slung over their shoulders smiled apologetically as they moved ahead. Erik tipped his hat to them in response and sighed as they giggled at the gesture. Did no one have any sense of manners anymore?

"Jess, did you see that assignment for Dane's class? I am never going to get all that reading done, ever," one of the girls said, sighing. 

"Seriously. If I don't get that paper for Comp 206 written, I'm going to, like, have to drop out of school. Not to mention that stupid journal assignment. Ugh."

Rogue looked up at him as the girls moved out of earshot. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"You may," he said, smiling as she rolled her eyes at his subtle correction to her grammar.

"You think I could've gone to college?"

He thought about that. "I don't see why not. It seems most young people nowadays are admitted," he said, wincing as another pair of students breezed by them, on cell phones and wearing skirts much too short to wear in public.

"Thanks, Erik," Rogue said dryly. "Real nice of you to say that."

"I merely answered your question," he said dismissively.

"Guess so. Do you think I would have done well?"

He thought about that as they paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.

At his continual silence, she glared at him. "You're takin' an awful long time to answer."

"I'm only thinking of how to answer this, as experience with women tells me your next question will be _why_." 

"I thought you lived a real long time with a man."

"I have also lived a _real long time_ with Mystique." He smiled down at her. "And yes, I do think you'd have done well." The light changed and he urged her forward, waiting for the inevitable.

He could almost _see_ her struggling not to ask, but eventually, she gave in with a rueful laugh. "Fine, you were right. I want to know why. Is it 'cause you think I'm a genius?"

He smirked. "Hardly."

"Erik!"

He laughed at her ire. "My dear, you are many things, but I would never call you a genius. I think you are intelligent in ways one cannot learn from books, if it matters, and that is more important to me. I do not value you any less for the things which you are not, and I am certain you should know that by now."

Rogue looked as if she were uncertain whether to be complimented or insulted by his words. "I got good grades in school," she said begrudgingly. 

"Who are you trying to convince?" He continued before she could answer, curious about what she'd planned to study. "What did you intend to study at college?"

She paused, watching the students as they made their way into one of the red-bricked buildings lining the side of the street. "Architecture."

"Really?" He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say, but it hadn't been that.

"Yup."

"Would you have designed buildings?" They paused on the street and both looked up at the large, impressive student union building; a gothic structure topped with a large clock, white stone shining in the late-afternoon sun. 

"Maybe. I think I liked the history of architecture the best, though," she said, head tilted upwards. "You know. People die but the buildings stick around forever. That kind of thing."

"Not forever," he murmured, giving in to the impulse and stroking her hair lightly. He thought of the reason they were there, at this college where a donor had given a great deal of money to endow a scholarship for which mutants were not permitted to be considered as potential recipients. The college, faced with the choice between declining the money or accepting it, had chosen to accept.

A situation, of course, the Brotherhood of Mutants found quite unacceptable. They'd issued a statement demanding the college reconsider, but the president had appeared on a national press-conference to decline the Brotherhood's demand. This meant, of course, that they would have no one but themselves to blame for what was going to happen later that day.

Rogue turned her head towards him, leaning slightly into his caress. "No, I guess not for forever." Her voice was low, as if she too were thinking about the pretty student union building and what it would look like a few hours from now.

The reconnaissance mission complete, they made their way to a small café with outdoor seating for lunch. Erik ordered a glass of water and a sandwich, and Rogue ordered a Coke and a grilled cheese with a side of fries.

"I'm rather astounded you can eat all of that," he said, watching her swirl her fry in ketchup.

"I work out like, six hours a day," she reminded him, shrugging.

The waiter re-appeared, charming smile in place, to see if they needed anything else. He was probably in his twenties, if that, and he'd definitely been paying more attention than was strictly necessary to Rogue. "You a student here?" he asked, switching her Coke for a fresh new one. Erik was out of water, and the waiter didn't seem all that inclined to bring him more.

"Yeah," Rogue said, nibbling on her sandwich. 

"Cool. What are you studying?"

Rogue sipped at her Coke and waited a moment before answering. "Architecture."

"Yeah?" The waiter looked suitably impressed. Erik didn't figure women of the young man's acquaintance were inclined to study something so erudite, but perhaps he was being unfair. "Don't know a lot of girls who do that."

"I'm different than a lot of girls," Rogue said easily. Erik hid a smile in his napkin.

"It family weekend or something?" the waiter asked, moving a fraction of an inch closer to Rogue. She wasn't wearing gloves, and Erik watched her shift imperceptibly away.

"Nope."

Erik spoke up before the waiter could continue querying them about their motives for being in town. "Some more water, and the check, if you would. Unless you'd like something else?" he asked, looking towards Rogue.

Rogue's expression was mischievous. "Ice cream. A sundae, maybe. With extra cherries."

Erik turned his gaze heavenward as the young waiter promised to deliver her requested dessert at once. He leaned back in his chair and gazed at her thoughtfully. "Flirting with our waiter, are you?"

"I just want a sundae." She finished off her grilled cheese, dipping the edges in ketchup, a habit which made him wince. "Guess I should have told him you were here for family weekend so he doesn't get suspicious."

"It doesn't matter."

"It's just…sometimes I get sick of people thinkin' you're my dad." She pushed her plate away. "Don't you?"

"I've rather stopped caring what humans think of me at all, to be quite honest." he said with a shrug. "The press isn't exactly complimentary towards our motives, as you may have noticed."

She looked around the café at their fellow patrons. "I wonder if that waiter'll be there, when we…you know."

"There's no way we could possibly know that," he said, giving her a hard look. "Unless you plan on warning him, perhaps, to stay away?"

"Of course I don't…I just wish sometimes, that it didn't have to be this way." There was something in her eyes that made her look years older than the others sharing the café with them.

If he were a different man, perhaps he'd feel badly about that. He didn't. Erik reached across the table, taking her hand in his. She tucked hers into the long, oversized sleeves of her sweater so that his skin didn't come into contact with hers. "I know, Marie. And perhaps one day they'll learn their place, and we can stop finally fighting this war."

"I know." She leaned forward, towards him. "I guess one day I'll just wake up and stop caring about it. I just wish it would hurry up and get here, that day, you know?"

He had no answer to that. What was he to say? He'd nearly succeeded in killing every human being on the planet at Alkali Lake, and the only regret he nurtured from that particular incident was that it hadn't worked.

The waiter returned at that moment with Rogue's dessert, and predictably, had forgotten his water altogether. Erik watched Rogue eat her ice cream, and his mouth quirked up in a smile. He gave a low, amused laugh.

"What?" She asked, pausing with the spoon halfway to her mouth, an ice-cream covered cherry atop her spoon, smeared with chocolate.

"Despite my usual lack of guilt over sleeping with you, there is something about watching you eat that ice cream that makes me feel like Humbert Humbert."

"Ah, a _Lolita_ joke. Nice." She licked her spoon suggestively. "Better be careful you don't end up on _Dateline_."

"I believe I was on that program last month, according to Pyro."

"Yeah, but that was for being a mutant terrorist. This'd be for something else." She held up some ice cream on her spoon, offering him some.

He declined politely. "No, thank you. I'm enjoying your consumption of this far more than I'd enjoy eating it."

"Whatever you want, Humbert," she joked, and despite being in a crowd he used his power to make the spoon whack her on the knuckles.

"Do watch your tone, young lady," he said severely.

The waiter reappeared with their check. Erik gave up on the water. "So you are here for family weekend," the waiter said, smiling at Rogue. "Getting reprimanded for your manners and all."

"Something like that," Rogue said as Erik reached for his wallet to pay the bill.

"So um….see you around. Maybe I'll take an architecture class, if there are pretty girls in it."

As far as lines went, it was rather unimpressive. Rogue gave the waiter a polite smile and inclined her head in a gesture that reminded Erik vaguely of himself. "You do that." Even her intonation was similar. It made him feel a bit smug to know he was that much in her head.

The waiter moved off and Erik opened the bill. There was no charge for Rogue's sundae, and the waiter had scribbled his name and a phone number on the bill along with the message _I hope your dad doesn't mind._

Erik snorted and passed her the check wordlessly. Rogue looked at it and rolled her eyes. "Hey, whatever, I got a free sundae. Worth the harmless flirting, I guess."

"And that, dear girl," Erik said, standing up and offering her his arm, "Is why you shall do much better in the real world than university."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Your skills of manipulation have earned you a reward. Don't you see how that is far more practical a skill than learning about the history of Greek temples or the like?"

She stood up and took his arm, leaning against him very briefly. "Guess so. Maybe you could give me a degree to frame and put over the bed when we get home."

They had to go inside in order to get back out to the sidewalk, and on their way out of the restaurant they saw the waiter, Chris, standing by the front door. Rogue pulled away and went over to where he stood, raising up on her tiptoes to whisper something to him. The young man's face lit up, and he nodded.

Rogue returned to his side and he held the door for her, following her back outside. "Are you going to tell me what you said to make him appear so cheerful?"

"I told him to meet me at the student union at four this afternoon after I'd taken you back to your hotel."

Erik narrowed his eyes. "You're aware of what Pyro is going to do to the student union at four this afternoon, are you not?"

She looked up at him, her face inscrutable. "Yeah."

"Not that this is really of any my business, but why did you just deliver that waiter into certain death?"

Her dark eyes were shadowed but her voice was firm when she spoke. "I have to learn not to care. It's a lot easier when you don't know who they are. It shouldn't be easy."

It was a strange reason, but he wasn't going to argue with her. They all dealt with this in their own way. He'd nearly delivered his lover of over a decade into death at Alkali for the cause. How could he fault her for doing it to some human she barely knew?

"I won't be happy about it or anything," she said, her voice defensive.

"I know, Marie. Believe me, I know." He put his arm around her waist and drew her closer, and they walked the rest of the way to the car in silence.

Somewhere in the distance, the bell tolled. He watched her as he drove them back to the rendezvous point, and how every now and then, her eyes would stray to the clock. He wondered if she was feeling guilty, but he didn't ask. It was too late, anyway.


End file.
